


Still living yet

by themuller



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: AU, Canon Compliant Violence, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 23:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8180221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themuller/pseuds/themuller
Summary: Alec rescues James.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MinMu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinMu/gifts).



> Happy birthday, MinMu!

Fuck. If Alec had known this to be an MI6 operation, he would have stayed well out of the way. As it was, James was tied up, a drill too close for comfort to his head and Alec faced with _the choice_. Doing what he would be paid for or — saving his once best friend and lover from certain mutilation and probable death. Watching the video feed from the INTERROGATION ROOM, what the handwritten post-it note clearly stated, Alec huffed at the shot and dead guard lying peacefully on the floor while his blood slowly filled one corner of the room. Three monitors trained at three very different locations of the compound and still every single one nicely signed with huge letters on small yellow self-adherent pieces of paper. Some people just had to show off their OCD, Alec thought. The monitor showed how the drill got closer to James’ temple, the blasted white cat almost as excited as its owner if the twitching tail was anything to go by. Alec knew why he never had liked the feline species. No twitching tail, but the excitement of an expected kill, the teasing of his victim, playing and almost letting it escape — thinking too much about their similarities and Alec might have to reconsider seeing a therapist. As it was, he shoved any thoughts about bloody cats and poking therapists into the deepest abyss of his mind and focussed on the monitor in front of him. Pushing the button on the small device in his hand, Alec started the count down.

When the first detonation was heard, the cat turned into a white line, vanishing from the monitor. Of course, James would just sit there, smirking as if he knew exactly what was going to happen in the next minutes. Shaking his head, Alec continued his countdown. The second and third detonation further away, letting his intended victim believe the danger had passed. One last glance at the monitor, James now alone in the room, trying to move his hands, Alec left the surveillance room to join him.

Two more guards down, the explosions drawing closer once again and Alec finally in the INTERROGATION ROOM, facing James for the first time in years. His own insecurity probably showing a million miles away and he stopped in the doorframe, looking intently at James. Waiting. Not knowing for what, drawing a deep breath, then another.

James watched him. The surprise had faded into disbelief. From disbelief to anger, just to be replaced with realisation and a new kind of surprise.

‘Oh,’ was all James managed to convey and Alec’s smirk was absolutely predatory.

With few steps he crossed the room and released James, not breaking eye contact at any time. Alec felt his heart beat hard, fast against his chest. A bit wobbly on his feet, Jame rose from the chair.

‘You crazy bloody fucking bastard.’

Alec’s grin couldn’t be any wider if he’d tried. Slowly, James lifted his hand, caressing Alec’s cheek. Tentatively, disbelieving.

‘You’re real?’

‘You bet on it.’

One more explosion. Close by this time.

‘We have to leave,’ James pulled Alec with him towards the exit.

‘No. Unless you want to leave your quartermaster behind,’ Alec elaborated when he saw James’ confused look.

‘Q?’

‘That’s his name? Young guy with a black mop of hair and glasses? And no fashion sense?’

‘How? He,’ James’ expression changed from confusion to — fear? Alec cocked an eyebrow, frowning. ‘He hates flying.’

 

Which clearly explained everything. Not. At least not to Alec.

 

‘How did he end up here? He is supposed to be in London,’ Jame said accusingly.

‘How would I know?’ Alec threw back. ‘Teach him a lesson and leave him in the cell? By the looks of it, he’ll probably only survive another day or two.’

 

The punch came fast and hard.

 

‘Which cell? And don’t,’ James swallowed. ‘Just don’t. This is not a joke.’

 

Alec could tell by the pain searing through his jaw that James definitely wasn’t joking. The last time the two of them had a fight of this kind, James’ life was as much at stake as Alec’s own. James was deadly serious about his quartermaster. No doubt about that.

Alec turned and led the way down towards the cells. The corridors were empty, the compound being evacuated and people running for their lives. Still, when Alec and James turned the last corner, they were met with gunfire from several guards. Alec cut the fight short, sensing James’ uncharacteristic tension. Glancing at his old friend, Alec realised to his own astonishment that James had real feelings for this boffin. The fear in James’ eyes, the pleading look whenever Alec mentioned the quartermaster. Alec knew this look. It had been directed at him, many years back. It had been directed at him just a few minutes ago.

Eventually, they made it to the cell, breaking down the door, climbing over yet another dead guard. Inside they were met with an eerie silence. The room was dark, smelling of decay, sweat, fear. Alec bid his lower lip. Had they arrived too late? He had watched the quartermaster being beaten up from the surveillance room. It had been obvious that Q had been held several days already.

The small bundle of something lying in one corner of the cell moved. Alec sighed in relief. James was kneeling beside the barely conscious quartermaster before Alec had drawn another breath.

‘Q?’ James’ voice was frantic.

He really had it bad, Alec thought, walking closer after having made sure no one was around to interfere. The last explosions would be far away from their current position, leaving them ample time to get the quartermaster and themselves to safety.

Carefully, James wrapped a dirty and torn blanket around the quartermaster, lifting him slowly and tugging him close. A small nod at Alec and the three of them were on their way out of the blasted place.

The ride in the helicopter, courtesy of Alec’s client, brought them out of the desert surrounding the plant. James kept Q in his arms, whispering sweet nonsense most of the time. Alec concentrated on his task, definitely not thinking about what James’ actions revealed about his relationship with the quartermaster.

While Alec’s client hadn’t payed for the rescue of two MI6 employees, she was nonetheless satisfied with the destruction of the compound. Alec was able to get the three of them back to civilisation, landing the helicopter in a remote part of Poland and somehow getting Q to a private hospital, which took care of his injuries without asking too many questions. It took some convincing and the slightest bit of manipulation to pull James away from Q’s bedside, but Alec managed eventually.

 

Thirty-six hours since they had set eyes on each other. After thinking the other one dead for years. They were sitting in a nondescript hotel room, a bottle of vodka on the coffee table in front of them, both of them sitting in the sofa, a safe distance between them.

‘So,’ Alec broke the silence. ‘The quartermaster, of all people?’

James didn’t lift his eyes from the small glass in his hands.

‘You have no idea.’

Alec waited patiently.

‘He saved my life. More than once. He is,’ James emptied the glass.

Silence.

‘I — we,’ James frowned, searching for the right words.

‘You’re fucking him and he thinks, you’re the love of his life.’

It was a matter of fact statement. No judgement intended.

Silence. James finally lifted his eyes, looked straight at Alec.

‘He is the love of my life.’

A heart beat. Silence. James closed his eyes.

‘He is,’ James opened his eyes, looking down at his hands. ‘He is the other love of my life.’

James did not look up. Did not move. Did not see Alec blink disbelievingly at him. Did not move when Alec closed the distance between them. When Alec’s lips ghosted over his ears, James let out a small sound. When Alec’s hand cupped James’ face, turned his head and their lips met, James returned the kiss, pliantly opening his mouth, letting Alec take, invade, taste. Too tired to put up the pretence of resistance. Too overwhelmed by his emotions, reconnecting to the person James trusted the most in this world. And Alec took. Held nothing back. Let the spark between them reignite and blossom. Trust, loyalty, friendship. Alec’s hands, lips, tongue reacquainted themselves with James’ body. Muscles less toned, new scars to be remembered and worshipped. Eliciting groans of pleasure, of delightful pain when teeth nipped at collarbones, when hot flesh rutted against compact thighs. Shedding their clothes, entwining their bodies. Close. Closer. Trying to become one unit. Sweat mingled with precome, saliva with tears. Tears of disbelief, of joy and alleviation. Climaxing, they fell into each others arms, spent, empty. Satisfied and completed.

 

They would spend the next days together at Q’s bedside, supporting each other, telling stories for Q, for James, for Alec. Three days, before Q regained consciousness, a week before he was able to shuffle to the bathroom on his own. Scowling at James who had been the reason for a panic inducing trip on an aeroplane. Winking at Alec, who in the end would realise who his client had been all along and why he had been hired to blow up a godforsaken solar power plant in the middle of nowhere.


End file.
